


Scenes in a Life (Of Two Idiot Pirates)

by Captainkrueger



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23050915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captainkrueger/pseuds/Captainkrueger
Summary: This is just a collection of short Zosan oneshots I write on Tumblr while I'm working on something longer.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro & Vinsmoke Sanji, Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 96
Kudos: 263





	1. Cat Nap

**Author's Note:**

> Sanji reflects and Zoro's catlike tendencies are on full display

Sanji had never seen anyone nap like he saw Roronoa Zoro nap. The man could sleep in any location, any position, given he had the time to nod off. And it didn’t take much for him to fall asleep. Whether that was because he got three hours of sleep at night or because he trained himself so hard was anyone’s guess. 

Zoro tended to nap in a warm patch of sun, but he wasn’t picky. The crew kept track of all of the places they’d stumbled on the idiot swordsman sleeping and found that, except for the women’s bedroom and small places like cupboards, Zoro didn’t discriminate. He did, however, still tend to favor sleeping outside. Moss needed sunlight, after all.

But things changed when he and Sanji started dating. At first he started sleeping more in _Merry’s_ kitchen back when the two of them–namely Sanji–weren’t yet ready to go public, back when everything was so new and uncertain. Naturally, he only slept in the kitchen when Sanji was busy with food prep, never when the place was empty. Maybe that’s why the others weren’t fazed in the slightest when Sanji and Zoro finally went public. Sure, Zoro slept in strange places, and once or twice could be written off as coincidence, but anything more was a pattern.

And he continued this practice on the _Sunny_. The new ship’s galley was larger, giving Zoro more places to choose from, but he tended to favor the bar where he could watch Sanji work for a little before falling asleep on his crossed arms.

Sanji didn’t mind this. A sleeping Zoro was less disruptive than the Zoro who wandered into the kitchen looking for attention. And, really, Sanji didn’t mind it when Zoro draped himself over his back, arms around his waist and chin on his shoulder–when he wasn’t busy with something that required him to move all over the kitchen, that is. But sometimes it was better when Zoro chose to spend his time sleeping near Sanji than hanging onto him, because it was easier to move when he didn’t have a grumbling Marimo on his back who growled at him for having the audacity to move around in _his_ kitchen.

Actually, Sanji liked it when Zoro chose to nap in the kitchen. It was comforting to look over his shoulder to see his boyfriend close by. Zoro’s presence was fixed, reassuring. It made him feel that so long as Zoro was snoring at the bar, everything would be all right in the end.

Not that he would tell him that.

And when they grew comfortable with the rest of the crew seeing them be affectionate with each other, Zoro became brazen enough to sleep on Sanji’s lap out on deck. Sanji suspected that was his favorite place to nap because if the opportunity presented itself, he took it.

Like he’d done so today. Normally Zoro was content to drop his head onto Sanji’s lap and pass out, but today he draped himself over Sanji’s thighs, placing his chin on his crossed arms. With the outlines of Zoro’s powerful back muscles visible, Sanji was reminded of a large cat settling in for a nap. All he needed was the furry ears and a tail to flick lazily.

“That can’t be comfortable,” Sanji commented, already reaching to pet Zoro’s hair.

Zoro grunted. “Feels good to me, Curly.”

Sanji chuckled. “Whatever you say, Marimo.” 

He was content to let Zoro stay put for the time being. Until his legs fell asleep from the full weight of Zoro’s torso, that is. But until then, Sanji was content to pet Zoro’s hair and allow him to sleep, sneaking in kisses onto Zoro’s head when he thought no one was looking.


	2. Adore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zosan shower time. Zoro is feeling particularly affectionate. Feat. Background UsoLu. Unapologetically fluffy.

Zoro had his rituals: he trained, he meditated, he looked after his katanas, he napped, all with the same practiced devotion that came from years of self-discipline and routine. Showering had not been one of them until he became romantically entangled with Sanji. The ship’s cook had always been a bit of a priss and one of his stipulations was that Zoro start showering more regularly.

“You sweat more than a regular human because you lift weights all day! Go hose off, you barbarian!” Sanji had shouted at him once, kicking him directly in the solar plexus when Zoro had tried approaching him for a post-workout kiss.

It had annoyed Zoro at first, but if it got the cook off his back, then he could put up with the inconvenience. But that irritation dissolved when he caught onto the fact that Sanji tended to crawl all over him after he showered. Zoro didn’t think the firecracker of a cook was even trying to use–what did Chopper call it?–positive reinforcement; Sanji just seemed to really like it when he smelled good. He’d given him soaps and colognes that Zoro thought had no business being as expensive as they were, but you wouldn’t find him complaining when Sanji wrapped himself around him and buried his face in his neck. Eventually, showering just became another one of his rituals.

Then there was the matter of getting to shower _with_ Sanji. Zoro enjoyed that most of all. Their male crewmates had caught on early that Zoro and Sanji were not to be disturbed when they occupied the bathroom together–although Luffy did need occasional reminders from the ever vigilant Usopp. Zoro enjoyed this time with Sanji for what it gave him; it was intimate without being inherently sexual and gave him unlimited access to his cook’s time and attention.

He enjoyed pressing himself against Sanji, letting his hands roam over the planes and contours of the cook’s lean muscles, giving and receiving lazy kisses while the water poured over them. Sanji grinned at him in that effortlessly sexy way of his while he tangled his fingers in the hair on the back of Zoro’s head, and Zoro felt compelled to reach back and grab hold of the cook’s hand.

Sanji gazed at him with half-lidded, amused eyes as Zoro kissed the creamy skin on the back of Sanji’s hand, moving down to his knuckles, his fingertips. He wanted to lavish his attention and appreciation on the hands that prepared meals for the crew one moment and then pet and caressed Zoro’s hair in another.

A chuckle sounded in Sanji’s throat. “You trying to start something, Marimo?”

Zoro lifted his lips from Sanji’s wet skin, looking up at him underneath his eyebrows. He grinned at him wolfishly, rotating Sanji’s hand. “Maybe.” He pressed a kiss into Sanji’s pulse in the inside of his wrist. “Tell me what you want, Cook.”

“Well,” Sanji said, craning his neck suggestively, his throat on display. “Since you’re working your way up…”

Zoro grinned, eager to please. His lips traveled up the expanse of Sanji’s arm, pausing at the midpoint of his forearm, the crook of his elbow, his shoulder. Zoro took Sanji’s arms and draped them around his neck while his mouth moved to the sensitive skin of Sanji’s throat. 

“You’re…trying to give me a damn hickey, aren’t you?” Sanji breathed, his head lolling back, the grip of his arms tightening around Zoro’s neck.

Zoro grinned against Sanji’s skin, about to respond, when he heard Usopp’s voice outside the bathroom door: “GEE, LUFFY! IT SURE IS A NICE TIME FOR A SHOWER!” A forced pause. “OH, BUT I HEAR THE WATER RUNNING.” Three obnoxious knocks on the door.

Zoro snapped his eye open, slowly lifting his head up and glaring in the direction of the bathroom door. Maybe they’d take the hint and leave.

Sanji snickered under his breath when Luffy’s voice rang out: “OIIII! SANJI! ZORO! YOU IN THERE?”

Zoro growled; Sanji continued to laugh quietly, dropping his forehead onto Zoro’s shoulder. “Occupied!” Zoro shouted, his voice guttural and dripping with menace.

“WELL, DARN!” Usopp again. “YOU AND I CAN SHOWER LATER, LUFFY. GUESS WE SHOULD G–”

“OIIII!” Luffy began pounding incessantly on the door, the knocks becoming erratic as a struggle could be heard outside. Zoro and Sanji stared at the door, waiting to see how this played out.

“Ah, hey! C’mon, Usopp!” Luffy whined.

“Luffy, let’s just get out of here and come back later!” Usopp hissed, failing spectacularly at whispering.

“But I wanna take a bath with you!”

Zoro groaned; Sanji laid a kiss on his cheek. “Just give us a minute, Luffy,” Sanji called, disentangling himself from Zoro’s arms.

“Someday, I’m going to cut him down,” Zoro promised.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sanji muttered, turning off the water and grabbing a bottle of shampoo. “I’ll wash your hair to make it up to you.”

Sanji’s promise placated Zoro–mostly. He sat down on one of the plastic stools, leaning his weight against Sanji as the cook massaged his scalp, occasionally lightly scratching his head with his nails. Zoro closed his eyes. “Let’s sleep in the kitchen tonight,” he murmured. Neither of them had the watch shift and Zoro found himself wanting more time alone with Sanji, free of selfish assholes who didn’t respect boundaries and made too much noise.

Sanji chuckled. “Whatever you want, Marimo.”


	3. Tactile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji is cold and Zoro is so very warm. Takes place before these idiots are officially together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this was inspired by a headcanon I saw once that Sanji doesn’t do well with the cold. I have known people who put on hoodies in hot weather, and given that we see him wandering around in a full suit, rarely ever taking off his jacket, I’m inclined to adopt that headcanon.

It was cold. _Other_ crew members–Chopper, Luffy, _Zoro_ –might tell him that he was making a big deal out of a slight chill, but Sanji was cold and he was eagerly waiting for the weather to change. And given that this was the Grand Line, that could be in a matter of hours or days, so Sanji had to make do with what he had. It was easy to warm up when he had the stove or the oven running, but he couldn’t keep those appliances running all day, which was frankly a pain in the ass, and it left him suffering in silence. 

So Sanji sequestered himself in the kitchen, where it was warmer than it was outside, even without the oven on. He kept himself preoccupied with food prep, getting a headstart on today and tomorrow’s meals. He was making good time on lunch by the time Zoro wandered into the kitchen.

“Go away, Marimo,” Sanji muttered, keeping his attention on the vegetables he was dicing. “You can wait until lunch.”

“I’m not here for food, Cook.”

Sanji glanced at Zoro, who’d headed straight for the wine and beer rack. Naturally. He clicked his tongue. “It’s not even afternoon yet.”

“What even is time?” Zoro replied, studying the label on the bottle in his hand, as if he had any semblance of standards. “Shouldn’t matter when I get drunk.”

“Flawless argument from you, as always,” Sanji said brightly before a chill passed through him, causing his frame to spasm involuntarily.

Zoro quirked an eyebrow at him. “You really can’t handle the cold, can you?” he asked, calling back the exchange they’d shared earlier in the morning. Sanji had rubbed at his arms and complained about the temperature, and Zoro had stared at him incredulously, asking him how he could possibly be cold. Sanji explained that he hated weather that was even remotely cold, but Zoro remained unsympathetic.

Like he was right now. Sanji sent him a dirty look. His hands were cold and he wanted to blow warm air on them, but he refused to give the green haired bastard the satisfaction. “Not all of us think skinny dipping in frigid waters sounds like a good time,” he snarled.

“I wasn’t _completely_ naked.”

Sanji snorted. He felt his face heat up as he glared at Zoro and he desperately hoped it wasn’t turning red. He’d brought it up to try to embarrass Zoro and it had backfired spectacularly because now he was fixated on a naked Zoro.

Zoro turned back to the alcohol rack, putting up the bottle he’d grabbed and searching for something else. “And that was training,” he continued. “Not because I like to go swimming in the nude.”

Sanji watched Zoro as he picked up bottles of booze and studied them, unable to find whatever it was that he wanted, which Sanji found strange. Zoro only needed to grab a bottle–or two or even three ~~–~~ to be satisfied, so why did he linger? It was almost like he was stalling.

Sanji continued to watch him, setting his knife down on the cutting board, watching Zoro’s torso bend and stretch as he reached for and grabbed the contents of _Merry’s_ alcohol supply. Sanji put one of his hands up to his neck, hoping his pulse might help warm it up. It didn’t.

“Not completely naked, huh?” Sanji asked, eyes traveling from the broad points of Zoro’s shoulders to the narrower point of his waist. So much more room to cover than a neck…

“I had pants on, pervert cook,” Zoro shot back, looking over his shoulder to glare at him. Sanji wasn’t sure if Zoro had caught where he was staring–not that he was being subtle ~~–~~ but if he had, he said nothing, his expression instantly losing its hard edge. He turned his attention back to the rack, his movements stiffer.

Sanji swallowed. He cautiously moved forward, crossing the kitchen until he stood behind Zoro, close enough for him to reach out and touch him. And he did, placing his palm directly on the center of Zoro’s back. Zoro tensed momentarily, then relaxed, setting his hands down on a shelf. Sanji stared at Zoro, transfixed, as he observed the muscles on Zoro’s back moving. “Is–is this all right?” he asked, softly. Zoro was so warm. He wanted more.

“Go crazy,” Zoro murmured, voice devoid of the usual bite it had whenever they were around each other.

Sanji placed his other hand on Zoro’s back and brought both down, running his palms against the smooth fabric of the white cotton. Just like the rest of him, Zoro’s back was hard and firm. Sanji stared at the solid wall of muscle that was Zoro’s back. He’d spent so much time watching it, making sure no enemy came close enough to touch it, and now here he was, allowed full access. It was a strange feeling and he wanted more, wanted to slip his hands past the obstacle that was Zoro’s shirt and run his fingertips against the hot flesh that lay underneath.

Glancing tentatively at Zoro, he circled his hands around Zoro’s waist, slipping his fingertips into the confines of the green haramaki. He stared at Zoro for a sign, but when the swordsman didn’t respond, Sanji started to pull his hands back, feeling his face and neck heating up as he realized he’d probably pushed too far.

“I didn’t say you had to stop.”

Sanji blinked. “Can I–” He stopped himself. “Do you _want_ me to keep going?”

Zoro finally turned his head and looked at Sanji, staring at him like he was an idiot. “Do you think I’d just stand by and let you touch me if I didn’t want it, dumbass?”

Sanji bristled. “I’m _trying_ to be considerate, asshole!”

Zoro opened his mouth to respond, paused, and then closed it. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I guess you are.”

Grumbling under his breath, Sanji gripped the edges of Zoro’s haramaki and started to tug at it impatiently until it came loose. Zoro helped him pull it off, tossing it aside so Sanji had better access. Wasting no time, Sanji shoved his hands up the back of Zoro’s shirt, sliding his palms up Zoro’s torso until they came to a stop midway. Zoro recoiled at the feeling of Sanji’s hands on his skin. “Shit, Cook! Your hands are cold!”

“And your back is warm,” Sanji replied, a content sigh escaping him. Sanji stepped closer, circling his arms around Zoro’s middle, resting his head on Zoro’s back.

“Cook…”

“Shut up,” Sanji mumbled, closing his eyes. He found himself wishing that he didn’t have several layers of clothing separating the skin of his arms from Zoro’s chest, but not everything could be perfect. “Don’t ruin it.”

Zoro chuckled softly. “I hope you don’t think this means that I’m gonna let you feel me up every time the weather gets a little chilly.”

As Zoro spoke, Sanji had begun to idly stroke his abdomen. Zoro responded by flexing his abdominal muscles, causing Sanji to smirk. Feeling emboldened, he said, “Okay, so…”

“Cook.”

“Hear me out,” Sanji pressed on. 

Zoro hesitated. “I’m listening.”

“W-what if I’m not doing this _just_ because you’re a convenient human space heater?”

“Asshole.”

Sanji chuckled, resting his forehead against Zoro’s back. “Seriously, though,” he continued. “This is…nice. And I’m not just saying that because your body’s so warm that it’s taking all of my self-control to not stick my head up your shirt.”

Zoro laughed. He turned around slowly, giving Sanji time to adjust. They stared into each other’s eyes, their breathing in sync. Sanji wanted to lay his ear against Zoro’s chest, listen to his heartbeat. Zoro brushed Sanji’s bangs out of his face, pinning them to the side as he cupped his cheek. “You’re hopeless,” he murmured.

“Yeah, well, then what does that make you?” Sanji teased. “You’re the one flexing your abs for me while saying I have ulterior motives.”

Zoro chuckled. “You got me there.”

Sanji started to pull away, pulling his arms out of Zoro’s shirt. “Okay, I’m feeling pretty warm now. I’ll let you get back to it.”

Zoro grabbed hold of Sanji’s chin. “You said it felt nice, huh?” he asked, staring down at Sanji’s lips.

A small smile broke out on Sanji’s face. “Yeah,” he said softly, wrapping his arms back around Zoro. Zoro let go of his chin and began to lean in closer, and Sanji did too, caught in Zoro’s gravitational pull. “You feel good in my arms, Marimo,” he murmured before their lips finally brushed against each other.

It was gentle and kind of sweet, kissing Zoro. It wasn’t angry or desperate like Sanji had fantasized it to be when he’d looked over at Zoro on the battlefield and watched him attack the enemy in an show of raw, animalistic power. How many times had Sanji looked at Zoro when he was fighting or training and had pictured him swaggering up to him at the end of it, pulling him by the tie, and _taking_ what he wanted?

But he didn’t need that in this moment. Right now, it was all Sanji could ask for. Let the rest of it come later, he thought to himself as he smiled against Zoro’s mouth as their kiss reached its end and they both began to pull away.

“I know what’ll warm you up,” Zoro said, readjusting his shirt and reaching for his haramaki.

“Oh?” Sanji asked, shooting a quick glance at the alcohol rack and wondering just how sturdy it was.

Zoro looked back at him and held up a bottle to the light, shaking it enticingly.

Sanji started laughing, running his fingers through his hair.

“What’s so funny?”

“N-nothing,” Sanji said, shaking his head. “I, uh… I’m not saying no; I’m saying not now.”

Zoro stared at Sanji inquisitively.

Sanji adjusted his tie on his neck, giving his hands something to do. “S-some of us have responsibilities on this ship, Marimo,” he said, walking back across the kitchen to wash his hands in the sink. “Can you wait until after dinner?”

Sanji heard footsteps approach him from behind. A strong arm wrapped around his neck, giving him a small squeeze as lips brushed against his heated skin. Sanji whimpered.

“Sure,” Zoro whispered close to his ear. He pulled away, taking the bottle with him. “See you then, Cook.”

Sanji nodded, though he was sure Zoro wasn’t looking. He stared at the counter in front of him in a daze for a few moments until cautiously looking around to see if he was alone. With the coast clear, Sanji wheezed and gripped the edges of the counter. He laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. When he got a hold of himself, Sanji returned to dicing vegetables, his thoughts returning to the muscles of Zoro’s back. Dinner suddenly felt so far away.


	4. Here With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji has nightmares, but the good thing is he has Zoro with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very into the idea that Sanji and Zoro present different sides of themselves to each other in private than the sides they present in public/to most people.

**I. Sanji**

Sanji’s eyes shot open as he awoke with a start. He didn’t recognize his surroundings as his eyes adjusted to the dark, so he sat up and looked around wildly until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whipped his head around in the direction that the hand had come from and started to relax when he saw Zoro lying down next to him, staring up at him solemnly.

Sanji took a moment to breathe out and look at the surrounding area again, now that higher brain function was slowly churning back to life in his head. That’s right, he was with Zoro in _Sunny’s_ kitchen. Zoro had wanted some privacy with him and neither of them had the watch shift, so they’d taken the futon they kept in the crow’s nest and brought it down into the kitchen.

And Sanji had had another nightmare.

He chuckled softly, bringing his palm to his forehead. “Sorry,” he mumbled, staring down at the blankets pooled in his lap. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Zoro sat up next to him. “Don’t need to be sorry, Cook,” he said. “I can’t sleep if I know you can’t.”

Sanji pushed his knees up, wrapping one arm around his legs and laying his forehead in the palm of the other. “And that makes me feel bad,” he said, staring into his lap pensively.

Zoro pressed a kiss onto Sanji’s shoulder. “And why’s that?”

“Because you don’t get enough sleep at night,” Sanji replied, closing his eyes and sighing as Zoro began rubbing his back soothingly. “And I don’t want to be a part of the reason.”

“Cook,” Zoro said, “I don’t sleep much at night. That’s just how it’s always been. You don’t have to...ah...lose sleep over it.”

Sanji heard Zoro chuckle at his own joke. He smiled wryly as he dragged his hand down his face. He chuckled, wrapping his other arm around his legs, drawing his knees in closer to his chest. “You’re a real dork sometimes, you know that?”

Zoro wrapped an arm around Sanji’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “You love it,” he said smugly.

“Or maybe I just love you,” Sanji said softly, turning his head and looking at Zoro, staring at him in the dark. “And I tolerate some of the other things.”

“Mmmm, I think you love both.”

Sanji tried to smile for Zoro, but the beast of what haunted his sleep shambled past him, its shadow falling over him, and he felt hollow and chilled to the bone. Zoro’s smile dropped. Sanji’s smile dropped and so did his gaze as cold cells, iron masks, and a father’s calculated cruelty returned to him in full force, pulling him away from the security of _Sunny_ and the warmth and safety of Zoro’s presence.

“Cook.”

Sanji closed his eyes and dropped his forehead onto his knees.

“Sanji.”

A hand on the back of his head, gently caressing.

“Sanji. Sanji, look at me. Please.”

Zoro did not ever say “please.” It was enough to catch his attention, but just barely. Sanji slowly lifted himself up, looking at Zoro, feeling like he was miles away.

Zoro stared at him, his gaze intense, the humor gone from his energy. “Come here,” he said, voice so quiet that he was practically whispering.

“But I already am here.”

“Come closer.”

Sanji felt himself nodding, pushing the sheets off the both of them so he could more easily settle down into Zoro’s lap. He sat facing Zoro, wrapping his arms and legs around him, resting his head on Zoro’s shoulder. Zoro put his arms around Sanji, pressing his face into his skin and inhaling deeply.

Sanji’s eyes slipped closed and he sighed quietly, trying to ground himself to the present moment, focusing on the feeling of Zoro’s chest pressed against his and his strong arms holding him close. 

Safe. 

That was what he was. 

He was safe with Zoro.

Zoro didn’t say a word. He didn’t prod Sanji to explain what weighed him down, didn’t even ask him if he wanted to talk about it. Zoro knew him enough to know that Sanji would tell him when– _if_ –he was able and ready. Zoro knew him enough to know that sometimes all Sanji wanted was to be held close because that was all that he could handle without falling apart. Sometimes Sanji told Zoro and sometimes he didn’t. And Zoro made him feel like that was okay.

Sanji held him closer and Zoro responded in kind. The only sounds in the kitchen were the clock on the wall and Sanji’s and Zoro’s breathing, which Sanji slowly realized was synched. He breathed in and out slowly like Zoro and wondered if his body was taking cues from Zoro’s, because Sanji had trouble willfully calming himself down even in the best of times.

A sad smile curled Sanji’s lips. God help him, but he loved this man.

Sanji began to hum a slow melody from his childhood.

Zoro slowly caressed his back. “What's that song?” he asked softly. “Haven’t heard it before.”

“Oh,” Sanji said, opening his eyes and staring at the opposite wall. “It’s just this song Zeff likes to play some nights, when he’s locked himself in his office.”

“Yeah?” Zoro said. “It sounds nice.”

Sanji chuckled softly. “It’s actually super depressing if you know the lyrics. I had to ask another cook to translate them for me because they're in another language and Zeff refused to tell me what the song was about.”

“Shit. I guess you just have a nice singing voice.”

Sanji nuzzled Zoro’s neck. “You’ve never even heard me sing.”

“No,” Zoro agreed. “But it seems like you can carry a tune.”

“Maybe,” he said. “The song sounds nice, if you don’t know that it’s about this guy who had to leave his love behind and who ends up killing himself after a life of failure and disappointment. I think that’s why Zeff refused to tell me what it was about; didn’t want to tell a kid all that.”

“Shit, Cook. And you’re humming this?”

“It’s...comforting,” Sanji said, trying to find a way to explain it to Zoro. “I guess because it’s something that’s Zeff’s.”

Zoro made a sound acknowledging him. “Then keep going.”

“You sure?” Sanji said, feeling self-conscious. It had been impulse that had made him start humming, but now that Zoro wanted to hear more, he wasn’t so sure.

“It makes you feel better, doesn’t it?” Zoro asked.

Sanji hesitated for a few more moments before closing his eyes again and continuing. He started gently tapping his fingers against Zoro’s back, recreating the melody of the song as best he could. It had been a few years since he’d last heard it, but Sanji couldn’t ever forget the song that kept Zeff company on dark, empty nights.

Zeff would put the record on when he got that far-off look in his eyes, when a long day had him drooping, from his stupid had to his shoulders. He’d pour himself a stiff drink and sink into his enormous leather chair that had seemed as large as a mountain to Sanji when he was a young boy, and he’d play that song and stare out the window across the sea to lands and perhaps even times unknown.

Zeff couldn’t be reached when he got like this–he seemed to retreat into himself and wouldn’t come out for hours, alone in his memories and who else knew what else that weighed him down. One time Sanji had tried to join him, to offer some comfort to the man who normally seemed so untouchable, but Zeff had shooed him out of the office and had started locking the door when he got like this.

Sanji hadn’t understood when he was younger–all he’d known was that Zeff was _different_ when that song came on, and it had shaken him at first. But now he was older and when he saw some of his crewmates–Usopp mostly, sometimes Robin, very rarely Franky or Nami–get that same far-off look in their eye and they started to wilt like flowers in the sweltering sun, Sanji did what he could to try to ease that burden. Usually it was through cups of tea or their favorite dishes, sometimes it was a bad joke, and sometimes it was as simple as sitting down with them, depending on the person. He hoped that one day he’d know what to do to help Zeff, just like Zoro always seemed to know what to do to make Sanji feel better.

* * *

**II. Zoro**

Zoro closed his eye, listening to Sanji humming softly near his ear. He didn’t understand what it was about some depressing song that his adoptive father liked that was so comforting to the cook, but if it made Sanji feel better, then who was he to question that? So Zoro listened and held Sanji close. It was all he could think to do in moments like this. He could also lay Sanji down on his back and try to kiss it away, give him a proper distraction because sometimes the cook needed help getting out of his own head, but if Sanji wasn’t asking, then Zoro would give him the emotional space while providing him with the physical closeness he so desperately needed sometimes. That usually seemed to do the trick.

The humming abruptly stopped. “Hey.”

Zoro opened his eye. “Yeah?”

Sanji shifted his weight. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Of what, Cook?” he asked, petting Sanji’s hair again.

“Of–of this...” Sanji mumbled.

“What are you talking about?” Zoro asked, genuinely confused by Sanji’s question and unsure of where he was going with it.

Sanji paused. “I mean, don’t you ever getting tired of having to comfort me when I have bad dreams like this?”

“Why would I ever get tired of that?” Zoro asked, sitting up straighter. Sanji stayed slumped over him.

“I just...” Sanji continued. “I just worry...”

“Worry about what?”

Sanji said nothing.

“That I’ll get tired of you?” Zoro asked, staring at Sanji closely.

Sanji flinched in Zoro’s arms, but remained silent.

Zoro sighed. “Cook, do you get tired of making our meals?” he asked, trying to put this in a way that someone like Sanji could most easily understand.

Sanji finally lifted his head and sat up, looking at Zoro strangely. “Of course not,” he said, sounding as if the very idea of it was inconceivable.

“Does it feel like a burden to you?” Zoro continued. “Waking up early every day so we have breakfast on time? Never taking a day off? Feeding a crew that eats as much as we do?”

Sanji’s brow furrowed. “Of course I don’t think it’s a burden. I-I enjoy–” He stopped when he saw Zoro staring at him dully, waiting for him to connect the dots. He looked down in embarrassment. “Oh...”

“See how dumb you sound?” Zoro asked, the affection in his voice offsetting the harshness of his words.

Sanji chuckled nervously. “I guess when you put it like that, I do.”

Zoro ran his hand along the side of Sanji’s face that was covered in hair, smoothing the blond locks. “We’re a team, Cook,” he said. “You take care of us, so let us–and let _me_ –take care of you.”

“I don’t think I know how to do that,” Sanji murmured. He sighed and got out of Zoro’s lap, settling back under the covers. 

Zoro followed suit, pulling the blanket over their heads, cocooning them from the rest of the world. He reached for Sanji’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “That’s okay,” Zoro said. He kissed the skin on the back of Sanji’s fingers. “You just need practice.”

Sanji gently shook his head, a small grin breaking out on his face. “Like training?”

“Yeah,” Zoro said. He didn’t know if it would help Sanji to picture working on accepting help as training, but everything someone worked on was basically training, anyway, and people like Zoro and Sanji were always working on being better. He hoped it helped. “Yeah, just like training.”

Sanji nodded. “I’ll try,” he said. Sanji exhaled, closing his eyes. “Will you hold me until I fall back asleep?”

“You know I will.”

Sanji nodded again, letting go of Zoro’s hand as he turned onto his other side, back facing him.

Zoro grabbed hold of Sanji and pulled him closer until they were nestled close under the blankets. They fit so perfectly together. Zoro buried his nose in Sanji’s hair, inhaling the scent of the cook’s favorite shampoo. Zoro lay there, holding Sanji to him, listening to his breathing as it slowly deepened as sleep finally reclaimed the cook. Zoro closed his eyes as he allowed himself to start to fall back asleep, knowing that he would wake up as soon as he sensed that Sanji needed him, and that he would do so gladly.


	5. At First Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji has a question. Except it's not a question. Not really.

“Oi. Marimo.” A voice cutting through the dark, yanking Zoro from his dozing state.

“What, Cook?” Zoro said, opening his eye just enough to squint up at Sanji.

Sanji ran his fingers through Zoro’s hair, soothing the irritation Zoro felt at being woken up just as he was about to fall asleep. Zoro closed his eye and hummed with approval, butting his hand into Sanji’s fingers when the cook tried to pull his hand away. Sanji complied, stroking Zoro’s hair again. “I have a question for you.”

Zoro growled. “And you couldn’t ask this before I settled in for a nap?”

“Hey, you’re taking a nap in my lap because I’m feeling generous,” Sanji said. “You can answer a question.”

“You love it when I have my head down here.”

“Pervert.”

Zoro smirked. “Look who’s talking.”

“Hmph.”

Zoro opened his eye back up, taking in the sight of Sanji looking down at him. “Well, obviously I’m not asleep. Go ahead and ask your question, Cook.”

Sanji’s gaze shifted sideways, away from Zoro’s stare. “It's not really a question, actually. I’ve just been thinking,” he murmured.

“About what?”

“Love at first sight,” Sanji mumbled, sounding embarrassed to say the words out loud around Zoro.

Zoro grinned. He reached up and poked Sanji in the cheek. “You saying you fell for me when we first met, Cook? Can’t blame you. I am pretty charming.”

Sanji wrinkled his nose, smacking Zoro’s hand away. “God, no,” he said, a little too defensively.

“Ouch,” Zoro said, continuing to grin at Sanji’s expense.

“More like it was annoyed at first sight,” Sanji grumbled, pulling his fingers out of Zoro’s hair, much to Zoro’s disappointment.

“That’s my line,” Zoro said. He sat up with a sigh, sitting cross-legged, hands on his knees. “You’re the one who was giving Nami all of the food for free and making Usopp and me pay for ours.”

“And you’re the idiot swordsman who almost got himself killed,” Sanji sniped.

“So we’re agreed,” Zoro said. “We both believe in annoyed at first sight. So where are we going with this again?”

Sanji shrugged, laying his hands in his lap where Zoro’s head once was. Zoro stared at Sanji’s hands, wishing they were back in his hair before Sanji spoke again, interrupting his train of thought: “I don’t know. I kind of used to be obsessed with the idea when I was kid. Actually, you could say I was obsessed until fairly recently.”

“Really? I hardly noticed,” Zoro said sarcastically.

Sanji glared at him and punched his bicep. “Will you shut up?”

“Touch my hair again and you got a deal.”

Sanji ever the martyr, cast his eyes to the sky and sighed. He gestured to his lap and Zoro, victorious, smirked and lay back down, placing his head back on Sanji’s thigh. As promised, Sanji started stroking Zoro’s hair again. “I used to fall in love five times a day,” Sanji murmured, speaking as if he was talking more to himself than Zoro at this point. “And yet…”

“What, Cook?”

“None of it could ever prepare me,” Sanji said, looking down into Zoro’s eye.

“For?”

Sanji groaned, slouching over Zoro, eyes squeezed shut.

“Come on, Cook,” Zoro said, playful, coaxing. “Say what you need to say.”

“You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“That’s a chance you’re going to have to take.”

Sanji slouched further until his hair was tickling Zoro’s face. Zoro reached up and cradled Sanji’s head in his hand, listening to Sanji’s breathing. Several breaths passed before Sanji spoke again. “None of it could ever prepare me for the real thing,” Sanji said quietly, so quiet that Zoro had to strain to hear what was being said.

Zoro blinked, then pulled Sanji’s head closer to him so he could press a kiss into Sanji’s forehead. Sanji pulled back slightly, opening his eyes and staring at Zoro for a few breathless moments before he sat back up straight. Zoro smiled up at him, eye sliding closed. “Love you, too, Cook,” he said. And with that said, Zoro fell back asleep, undisturbed, Sanji playing with his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting two chapters for the price of one today. This comes from some prompts I've done over on my blog. I have another one that's shorter than usual, but I love it and I think it deserves to be on here, so I'm going to upload it with this one so people don't feel cheated.


	6. He Is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji is many things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so this is that short one. Packed a wallop for me, writing this one, so I hope it's even half as effective reading it.

Sanji was many things. He was the future Pirate King’s cook, Zeff’s little eggplant, Nami’s slave, a Devil to Zoro’s Demon. He was a lover, a fighter–and a damn good one at that. He was a dreamer and he was a pain in Zoro’s ass. He was _light_ itself, and sometimes Zoro had to look away when Sanji focused that light on him, in disbelief that he could ever be so fortunate to call such a man his lover.

Sanji was all these and more, but at the end of the day he was still just a man. A man who grew excited when sneaking back onto the _Thousand Sunny_ while Zoro kept watch of the ship while the rest of the crew had their fun on an island as they all took a breath in between liberating entire kingdoms. A man who grinned at Zoro and said, “Come on, let’s go” as he tugged on Zoro’s hand and led him up to the crow’s nest. A man who kissed him like it was the first time before he folded up his suit. A man who could do something so _fussy_ and still have Zoro’s heart racing in his chest like it was the first time when he looked upon him.

He was a man with needs, and one of those needs included sleeping when he tired himself out. There was a perfectly good futon spread out on the floor of the observation deck, and yet Sanji chose to sleep on top of Zoro like he was the more comfortable option, with his sharp edges and hard angles, head over his heart, hair fanning out against Zoro’s dampened skin.

And Zoro simply lay there, staring at the top of Sanji’s head, certain that he might go blind if he continued to look. Something heavy lay in his throat, twin to the muscle in his chest that just might burst any second now as he stared at that blond head, felt the weight of Sanji’s lean body pressed into his. But it was a good kind of heavy, and Zoro thought that if he were to die right this second, then, well, there were worse ways to go.


	7. Idiot Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji is affectionate when he's drunk

Zoro and Sanji were not what one would consider an affectionate couple ~~–~~ at least not in the beginning and not when other people were around to see. This in part was because Zoro didn’t understand the incessant need some couples had to involve the public in something that was supposed to be private. This wasn’t to say that he was against hand holding or light kisses in public settings, but Zoro wasn’t in the habit of making anyone else privy to the fact that Sanji’s deft fingers in his hair reduced him from snarling tiger on the battlefield to a purring lap cat–in the beginning, that is. Nowadays, he didn’t care who saw when he settled in for a nap on Sanji’s lap, lulled to sleep by the soothing sensation of Sanji playing with his hair and lightly scratching his scalp.

And then there was Sanji, the other half of the equation. “It’s not that I’m ashamed,” Sanji had told him once when Zoro had approached him to ask him if he was having second thoughts about their relationship. “I just like that this is just between us right now. I like having this little secret with you.”

And Zoro had respected that, had understood that line of reasoning. He waited and tried to remain discreet until Sanji was ready to go public–and then he did what he could to assuage Sanji’s wounded pride in the privacy of the kitchen while the cook ranted about how none of the crew had been surprised, because hadn’t Sanji and Zoro been careful? 

Zoro remembered trying at first to stifle his amusement, but Sanji, in his anger, reminded Zoro of an angry kitten Zoro had come across once. The thing could fit in the palm of his hand, and it had been startled by Zoro, and it had done its best to appear big and intimidating, arched back, tiny lips pulled back in a snarl. It had only made Sanji angrier when Zoro had started laughing, and Zoro had to fend off Sanji’s furious kicks, grinning all the while as his kitten bared his fangs at him.

Zoro looked at Sanji from across the table he and the rest of the crew occupied in the tavern, smiling to himself over the rim of his tankard as he remembered how things had been so long ago. These days they were more open with their affection for each other, but usually that stayed on the comfort of the ship or at the end of the battle, when their blood still raced and unspent energy found its outlet through heavy, aggressive kissing and gripping, pulling hands.

Zoro kept his gaze on Sanji, watched the love cook flirting with Nami, Robin, and the two friends they’d made since entering the tavern. Zoro watched the way Nami and Robin exchanged knowing glances with each other as Sanji tried to ingratiate himself with the two women seated across from them, the two female members of the Straw Hat pirates already three steps ahead of Sanji, as always. 

Robin, cheek cradled in her hand, her eyes sparkling with amusement, cast a glance Zoro’s way, silently checking in with him without needing to say a word. Zoro nodded at her and tipped his tankard in her direction before finishing off his drink. He then pushed himself up out of his seat, telling the table he’d take the next round, feeling generous, earning raucous cheers from his inebriated crewmates.

Sanji noticed Zoro as he passed by, grinning at him and throwing an arm around his neck. “Zorooo,” he drawled, slightly stumbling as he followed him to the bar, leaving all four ladies behind. Zoro raised an eyebrow, putting a steadying hand on the small of Sanji’s back just in case it was needed.

“Hi, Cook,” Zoro said, raising his free hand to get the bartender’s attention. “You having fun?” He glanced over his shoulder and saw the women chattering away, the both of them already forgotten.

“Yes,” Sanji said, with the special kind of happiness that only came to small children and the drunk. “But the important question is: are _you_ having fun, Marimo?”

Zoro smirked and looked at Sanji, who still had his arm around his neck, as he put in his order for the next round. “Yes, Cook,” he said. “There’s alcohol and all our friends are here. Course I’m having fun.”

“Good,” Sanji said, nodding with as much solemnity as he could muster in his current state. “It’s good to have fun.”

Zoro chuckled once, shaking his head. Sanji had hardly anything to drink and already he was tipsy. “Should I order you another drink or are you stopping here for the night?”

“No.”

“No, what?” Zoro asked. The bartender looked their way and sent Zoro a brief nod as he worked on drinks for a different set of customers.

“No, I’m not stopping.”

“All right.”

“‘Cause I’m gonna keep up with you tonight.”

Zoro looked at Sanji skeptically, raising an eyebrow. “Cook, you’ve probably had less to drink than me and you’re already ahead of me.” Zoro at most had a nice buzz going on and Sanji already looked sleepy.

“Don’t care,” Sanji said, resting his head against Zoro’s with a sigh. “Maybe I’ll stop and wait for you to catch up.” He hummed contentedly, his fingers snaking up the side of Zoro’s head and petting Zoro’s hair like he would a small animal. “Yer hair’s soft…”

Zoro blinked. The cook was going to have a killer hangover in the morning if he truly intended on drinking like Zoro, and he was always a complete _bitch_ in the morning after as he nursed his headache, but Sanji was an adult and could make his own decisions–no matter how poorly thought out they were. “Don’t come crying to me when your head hurts tomorrow,” he said before placing his order. “You’ll get no sympathy.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die, Marimo.”

* * *

Sanji’s plans to drink as much as Zoro had failed. Nami was the only one on the ship who could keep up with Zoro ~~–~~ and maybe even outpace him–and she’d left with the rest of the others a while ago. Sanji’s efforts had been brave ~~–~~ and stupid ~~–~~ but they’d been in vain. The cook slumped over the table with a sigh, pushing his tankard away in defeat while Zoro watched him over the rim of his, small smirk on his lips.

“Okay,” Sanji said, pushing his seat out, probably ready to leave. “I’ve had enough.”

“See you on the ship,” Zoro mumbled, too busy staring into the amber depths of his drink to notice Sanji walking over to him until the cook had plopped himself in Zoro’s lap, straddling his thighs. He looked up at Sanji. “Hello ~~–~~ ” he said before he was cut short by Sanji wrapping all four of his limbs around Zoro’s torso and burying his face in Zoro’s neck.

Zoro blinked, glancing around to see if anyone had taken notice. Most everyone had left at this point and those that had remained were too drunk to notice or care. He was the only witness to Sanji’s shameless clinging. He wished he could take a picture of this moment. Zoro let him be, taking his time with his drink, the alcohol and Sanji’s soft snoring his only company.

When he was ready for what would be his last drink, Zoro stood up and was shocked to find that Sanji’s grip hadn’t lessened, even in sleep, even as Zoro moved. Zoro stared at Sanji, his shock dulled by the alcohol. A crossbreed of a snort and a snicker emanated from his nose and made his nasal passages sore as he took in the absurdity of the situation.

Zoro sighed. “Cook,” he said, trying to push down on Sanji’s thighs. They wouldn’t budge. He tried again, this time with more force, and was met with the same resistance. “Cook. Let go.”

Sanji mumbled something in his sleep.

Zoro shook his head. To think that all of the previous moments he’d experienced in his life had built up to form this one. The absurdity of it all…

Zoro continued to try to pry Sanji off him until it finally sunk in that the only way he’d be free of Sanji’s python grip was to enact serious injury on the cook, so he relented with a long, tired sigh. “This is my life,” Zoro muttered to himself, still in disbelief as he turned around slowly and Sanji continued to cling to him. Zoro tiredly ruffled Sanji’s blond hair as he approached to pay his tab, the final drink a no-go. “Guess we’re going home, Cook.”

The bartender did little more than raise his eyebrow, having probably seen weirder. Zoro flashed the man a sardonic grin. “Gotta take my child home,” Zoro said wryly as he paid for the night.

He heard the bartender bark out a laugh as he turned and left.

He found Brook waiting for him outside, staring up at the full moon. The skeleton turned his skull, saying “Ah, Zoro-san, the others–” Brook stopped in his tracks when he saw Zoro staring at him blandly, Sanji clinging to his torso like a young koala did to its mother.

“Shhhh,” Zoro whispered loudly, finger held to his lips. “The baby is sleeping.”

Brook hesitated, tilting his skull to the side. “I was trying to say that the others thought it prudent that I escort you back to the ship.”

Zoro was already trudging past Brook. “Of course they did,” he said dully. “Assholes.”

Brook took two large steps to catch up. “Ah, Zoro-san?” he asked, concern in his voice as he grabbed Zoro by the shoulder and steered him in the right direction. “May I ask why–”

“Why I have a twenty-one year old man hanging off me?” Zoro asked, looking up into Brook’s skeletal face. “Dumbass wanted to drink with me.”

Brook laughed quietly. “I see. And have you tried–”

“Yes, Brook,” Zoro interrupted, “I tried getting him off of me. Asshole’s got legs of steel.”

“Hm. I must say, it’s interesting to see the two of you like this,” Brook observed.

“Like what?” Zoro asked, keeping his attention on the cobblestones in front of him.

“So open with each other out in public,” Brook explained. “You’re usually more reserved than other young couples your age.”

Zoro shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Indeed,” Brook agreed. He paused for a moment before continuing. “And it’s interesting to see Sanji-san so…”

“Clingy?”

“Vulnerable,” Brook clarified.

That brought a tired smile to Zoro’s lips. He looked at Sanji, who was still snoring away on his shoulder, and he dropped his hand onto the top of Sanji’s head, ruffling his hair softly. “He’s gonna hate you for seeing him like this,” Zoro murmured, looking ahead and seeing _Sunny_ in the distance.

“It is a rather undignified position,” Brook agreed, laughing softly.

Zoro groaned as they drew closer to the ship.

“Zoro-san? What’s wrong?”

Zoro stared up at _Sunny._ He then looked up at Brook. “I’m just realizing what a pain in the ass it’s going to be getting him up there.”

Brook laughed melodically while Zoro struggled to wake Sanji.

“Cook.”

Silence.

“Cook, wake up. We’re here.”

“Mmmm…”

“COOK!”

“Nooooo…” Sanji whined, nuzzling the front of Zoro’s shirt.

“AT LEAST MOVE ONTO MY BACK, YOU CLINGY BASTARD!”

“Nooo, I’m comfy…”

“ASSHOLE!”

Brook laughed. “Good night, Zoro-san,” he said as he made his way onto the ship.

“WHAT? BROOK? BROOK, GET BACK HERE! BROOK, COME BACK AND HELP ME!”

But Brook was already gone, leaving a drunk, angry, tired Zoro behind with a drunk, whiny, clingy Sanji who refused to let go. Zoro yelled up at the sky in frustration, the lion head on the front of the ship and the moon silent, indifferent witnesses to his troubles.


	8. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoro falls in battle. Sanji and Chopper must get him to the Sunny.

_It’s not supposed to be like this._

Sanji, teeth clenched, glances at the man in his arms. Zoro, limp in Sanji’s arms, head lolling against Sanji’s chest, is so, so heavy in Sanji’s arms. He no longer has the strength in him to hold onto Sanji’s neck, and the only reassurance Sanji has that he isn’t already dead is his shallow breathing. That is little comfort to Sanji as he dashes towards _Thousand Sunny,_ running as if Death itself is there to lay claim to his soul.

A sob catches in Sanji’s throat. “Almost there, Zoro,” he says, voice reduced to a whimper. “Almost there.”

Chopper, on all fours, can barely keep up with Sanji. The tactical side of Sanji’s mind registers Chopper looking over at him and saying something to him, but Sanji doesn’t have it within him to take in what is being said. All that matters is that Chopper is there with him and is aware of the situation. The less that Sanji has to worry about, the better. He’s barely managing as it is. Maybe Chopper’s offering to carry Zoro on his back, like he’d done when Sanji had first scooped the swordsman into his arms, cradling him like he would a small child. If Zoro were conscious, he’d object to being carried in such an undignified manner.

The thought does nothing to comfort Sanji, only grabs hold of the dull weight in his chest and squeezes.

“Please, Zoro,” Sanji says, choosing to keep his gaze on the ship, because if he looks back down at Zoro, sees the slight part in Zoro’s lips as he fights to breathe, sees the color drained out of his face, sees how small and _young_ Zoro looks in this state, he might just come undone and give Chopper even more work. 

And Sanji needs to be strong. For Zoro.

Sanji bites down on another sob, crushing it between his teeth. “Please.”

_It’s not supposed to be like this._

* * *

They make it to the ship. Sanji kicks himself up into the air and carries Zoro to Chopper’s office, leaving the ship’s doctor behind to catch up.

* * *

“Take off his shirt!” Chopper’s frantic cry. “It’s in the way. We need to stop the bleeding!”

Sanji, lips set in a grim line, strokes Zoro’s feverish face before he complies. He has to force himself to pay attention to the words coming out of Chopper’s mouth now.

* * *

“I need you to leave now, Sanji,” Chopper says, deathly calm.

“But don’t you need my help?” Sanji says.

“You’ve done all you can,” Chopper says as he works, his hooves steadier than Sanji’s hands would be in his place. “It’s up to me now.”

“But–”

 _“SAN_ -JI!” Chopper’s staring up at him like a cornered animal now. “YOU’RE NOT GOING TO BE ANY HELP TO ZORO IF YOU GET IN MY WAY!”

Sanji backs up a few steps, staring at Zoro, still pale, still small, still struggling to breathe. He swallows glass and turns. “Okay, Chopper. Okay.”

* * *

Sanji has relocated himself just outside of the medical bay, propped up against the wall, ready to jump to his feet as soon as Chopper walks out the door with news. He’s on his third cigarette now. He has his head tilted to look up at the sky, but he doesn’t take that vast blue in. 

He sees red.

Red. 

The flesh on Zoro’s abdomen was red and ripped and–

Sanji closes his eyes, suddenly aware of every atom that makes up his physical form _vibrating._ He brings a shaking hand up to his forehead, drags his palm down his face, as if he can wipe the images, the guilt, away.

No such luck.

The wave of despair and fear and self-loathing that hits Sanji is breathtaking in its size and devastation. It has Sanji curling in on himself, arms wrapping around his knees, face pressed into the material of his pants as he sobs and he screams and he screams and he screams and–

* * *

_It’s not supposed to be like this._

_It’s not supposed to be like this._

_It’s not supposed to be like this._

_It’s not supposed to be like this._

_It’s not supposed to be like this._

* * *

“Sanji-kun?”

Sanji jolts awake, sees Nami standing over him. He should greet her, get to his feet so he can properly look her in the eye, but all he can do is sit there and stare. 

Nami gazes down at him, lips pulled down in a frown, brow creased with worry. She sighs and sits down next to him, folding her legs underneath her. “Zoro’s doing better,” she says, clasping her hands together around a knee.

Sanji opens his mouth to speak and finds that he can’t.

“The worst of it is over,” she continues. “Zoro’s just sleeping now.”

Sanji tries again to speak until he’s successful. “Why didn’t Chopper tell me?” His voice is small. He’s too tired to even be angry.

“He said you needed to rest,” Nami says. “Don’t be mad at him, Sanji-kun. You three have been through a lot today.”

Sanji shakes his head slowly. “I’m not the one who’s in a hospital bed right now, Nami-san.”

“Yeah, well…” She hesitates. Sanji can see her chewing the inside of her cheek. “Chopper told us how you were there when–” She stops when a strangled sound escapes through Sanji’s teeth.

Sanji grabs fistfuls of his hair, trembling next to Nami as he tries to hold it together. He can’t see her now that he has his eyes closed, but he feels her delicate hand on his shoulder and that only makes it worse. He doesn’t deserve this kindness, not when he’s the reason why Zoro’s like this in the first place.

But he says none of this to Nami.

The seconds of tense silence morph into minutes–or maybe no time has passed at all–before Nami finally speaks again. “You can go in there if you want,” she says. “Chopper says it’s okay.”

Sanji helps Nami to her feet. She stares at him solemnly before she pulls him into a hug. Sanji hesitates for a moment, too shocked to move, before he returns Nami’s embrace, closing his eyes and enjoying this small moment.

“It’s going to be okay, Sanji-kun,” Nami says. She sounds morose, but she doesn’t sound uncertain like Sanji has felt since Zoro fell in front of him. Sanji is grateful to Nami for her kindness, for her strength when he’s having a hard time feeling strong. “Zoro’s going to be okay.”

“Thank you, Nami-san,” Sanji says when they separate.

She puts on a small smile for him. “And don’t worry about dinner,” she says. Sanji blinks. He’d forgotten all about dinner, but one glance towards the medical bay is all he needs to quash any rising feelings of embarrassment within him. “Robin and Franky have it covered. And we’ll take care of breakfast, too. Just…go be with Zoro. Okay?”

Sanji stares at her, his lips parted, his heart swelling with emotions he can’t begin to name. “I… Thank you, Nami-san.”

Nami nods and she leaves, sending one more tiny smile his way before Sanji is alone again.

He gently pushes the door open, stepping quietly into the med bay. Chopper is gone, leaving Sanji alone with a sleeping Zoro. Zoro, with the entirety of his body wrapped in bandages beneath the neck, lies quietly on the cot. His color has returned and Sanji stands in the doorway and watches Zoro breathe, hypnotized by each rise and fall of his chest as his lungs take in and expel a full, healthy breath.

Sanji sniffs and walks over to the cot, falling to his knees next to Zoro. He grabs one of Zoro’s hands in his. Zoro doesn’t wake. Tears pooling, Sanji allows a small sobbing sound to leave him that is equal parts relieved and guilty. Holding Zoro’s hand in both of his, Sanji brings it to his lips and presses a kiss into the bandages.

“Hi,” he says to Zoro’s sleeping form. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

* * *

Sanji wakes to the feelings of Zoro’s fingers in his hair. Having fallen asleep kneeling in front of the cot, face in his crossed arms, Sanji’s face is warm as he sits up, sighing through his nose as his brain wakes up with the rest of him. He blinks and sees Zoro staring at him, tired smile on his lips.

“Hi, Cook,” Zoro says and it’s the most beautiful sound Sanji has ever heard.

Sanji blinks again. “H–” he starts to say, stops when he hears himself. He clears his throat and tries again. “Hi, Marimo.”

Zoro tries to sit up and immediately grimaces. 

Swallowing, Sanji gently presses his hand into Zoro’s chest, coaxing him into lying back down. “Don’t move.”

“Did–” Zoro begins. Sanji sits back against his heels, grabbing Zoro’s hand, staring at their interlocked fingers. “Did everyone make it out okay?”

“Yeah.” Sanji’s voice is so quiet he wonders if Zoro can hear him. “Yeah, everyone got out fine.”

Sanji hears Zoro shift on the small bed, hears it creak in protest as he sees Zoro let go of his hand. He looks up and sees that Zoro’s moved himself closer to the wall, leaving more room for him. Zoro gestures at the freed up space, then beckons Sanji to come closer.

Swallowing the weight in his throat, Sanji carefully joins Zoro, lying on his side to face him. They stare at each other in weighted silence. Sanji is content to stay like that, watching Zoro, listening to him draw in his next breath, but Zoro has other ideas. “Are you okay?” Zoro asks.

Sanji blinks. “You’re asking _me_ that?”

“Yeah.”

Sanji shakes his head in disbelief. “Zoro, I’m not the one who’s laid up in bed.”

“Yeah, well.” Zoro shrugs, which is awkward while lying down. “I’m sure you’ve worked yourself into a frenzy over this.”

“‘Over this?’” Sanji sits up. “Zoro, I saw you fall. You–you didn’t get up. You could have died if Chopper–if I–”

Sanji exhales sharply, drags his fingers through his hair, which has seen better days. Zoro stares up at him, lays his hand against Sanji’s arm. Sanji sighs, leans into Zoro’s touch. “But I didn’t die,” Zoro says, like it’s that simple. “Isn’t that enough?”

“NOT WHEN I’M THE REASON WHY YOU ALMOST DIED!”

They stare at each other while Zoro tries to sit up. The pain sets in immediately, twisting Zoro’s face in agony as he tries to move. Sanji swallows and pushes down on Zoro’s shoulders, perhaps a little too roughly, and he grimaces as Zoro winces when his back hits the cot. “Lay down, idiot,” Sanji hisses. He sighs, stares down into his lap while Zoro wheezes next to him and the cold fingers of guilt close around Sanji’s heart.

“So that’s what this is all about,” Zoro says. “Cook, it’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” Sanji says, staring at his limp hands. “If I had been paying better attention–”

“You were watching out for Nami.”

 _“If I’d been paying better attention,”_ Sanji repeats, firmly, looking into Zoro’s eye, “you wouldn’t have had to do what you did.” 

Zoro blinks. “I don’t regret what I did.”

Sanji sighs again, smooths down the curtain of hair hanging in his face. “I know you don’t.”

“Okay. So why are you so bent out of shape about it?”

Sanji looks at Zoro incredulously. He doesn’t know whether to strike Zoro for saying something so breathtakingly stupid, to light a cigarette, or to scream. “Zoro… Are you serious?”

“I did what I did,” Zoro explains. “And if it’d gotten me killed, then that means I wasn’t good enough.”

Sanji lunges, grabs hold of Zoro’s shoulders, grips him tight enough to bruise. “Don’t say that!” he shouts in Zoro’s face. “Don’t you ever say that again! Damn it, Zoro! You–you can’t treat your own life like it’s worth nothing!”

Zoro blinks. “Do you remember what I said when I fought Mihawk that first time?” he asks.

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT! _FUCK,_ ZORO!” Sanji shoves Zoro and sits back, staring back down into his lap. “You–I need you…to think about how it would affect me if you died. If you can’t do that for yourself then, _shit,_ do it for me.”

Sanji looks back up into Zoro’s eye when the swordsman says nothing. It’s needy and selfish of Sanji to say this, but if it can get Zoro to care about his life, even just a little bit, then he doesn’t care. If it keeps Zoro alive, then he doesn’t care.

Zoro takes in a few more breaths. Sanji lays his hand on Zoro’s chest, watches as it moves up and down as Zoro breathes in and out. “Okay,” Zoro says. “Then I’ll get stronger. For us.”

Sanji lets out a sound. He’s not sure if it’s a laugh or a sob. He hides behind his hand as he tries to smother the sounds coming from him. He curls in on himself, shoulders trembling as the dam breaks and there is nothing he can do to stop it.

“Cook.” A hand on his arm. “Cook. Lay down.”

Sanji has enough presence of mind to obey, lying down on his side, back facing Zoro. A familiar set of arms wrap around Sanji and pull him closer until he’s pressed up against Zoro’s chest. “I-I can’t _stop,_ Zoro,” Sanji sobs.

“It’s okay, Sanji,” Zoro murmurs near Sanji’s ear. “It’s okay.”

Eyes shut tight, Sanji clamps his hand over his mouth, not wanting to alert the rest of the crew because right now he can hardly tolerate Zoro seeing him in this state. He’s so close to Zoro, feels his warmth, but it does nothing to stop the sounds from coming out of Sanji. He has no choice but to ride this out, to live with the knowledge that Zoro’s dream had almost come to an abrupt, senseless end because of a careless mistake on Sanji’s part. So Sanji, pressed against Zoro on the hospital bed, failing to stifle his crying, vows in that moment that he’ll get stronger so Zoro never has to worry about him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hokay, this is probably the last oneshot for a while. This, like the last few, was a prompt and I have like five others sitting in my inbox, but I'm sapped of creativity lately and I want to focus on the two Zosan fanfics I have planned. One I'm hoping to get out soon. So if you liked this one, lemme know. Ciao!
> 
> (Also how's the whiplash from going from a comedy chapter to this one in the span of a week?)


	9. A Rainy Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just gotta enjoy a rainy morning in bed with your Marimo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone still reading these? Anyway, it's been a while. Times have been rough. I'm working on the second part to "In Dreams" and I would like to eventually get the first chapter of another fic out soon, but we'll see what the future holds.

It was raining when Sanji woke up. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was an unfamiliar ceiling. He was confused for a few foggy moments, staring up at the beams that held up the ceiling and listening to the steady fall of rain outside the window, until he felt movement next to him and he looked over and saw Zoro asleep next to him. Sanji’s confusion dissipated as he stared at Zoro and remembered that he had approached Sanji the previous evening and told him that he’d gotten a room for the night. 

Sanji rolled onto his side and watched Zoro, who’d rolled over onto his stomach and who continued to sleep, lost to the world. Watching him, Sanji felt a smile grow on his face. He began to speak so he could wake Zoro, but he got a better idea before he was finished saying his first syllable, cutting himself off so all that came out was a soft “Ma–”

Zoro did not hear him and so continued to sleep. Sanji’s smile grew into a grin. He sat up, the nice linen sheets of the bed he and Zoro occupied pooling in his lap. He reached out and ran his hand against Zoro’s hair. Zoro mumbled something in his sleep, a soft “…cut you” that made Sanji laugh.

Sanji continued stroking Zoro’s green hair, enjoying the silence in the room while it continued to rain outside. It was nice to have an off morning with Zoro, to laze about in bed with him and let the rest of the crew worry about their own breakfast for once. Zoro seemed to respond to the hair petting, sighing in his sleep and ever so slightly pushing his head into Sanji’s hand like he did when he was awake and wanted more.

Delighted, Sanji grinned and moved his hand down, tracing his fingertips down Zoro’s arm until he found his hand. Sanji picked up Zoro’s hand, taking little notice of the groan and exhale Zoro let out as he held up Zoro’s large hand and examined it.

“What’re you doing?”

Sanji looked down and saw Zoro squinting up at him groggily. He chuckled, running the pad of his thumb against the back of Zoro’s hand. “Just,” he said, turning it over and examining his palm, “wanted to get a little look.”

Zoro grunted and dropped his head back down, planting his face into the pillow. “You’re weird,” he said, voiced muffled, allowing Sanji to continue.

Sanji ran a finger along the fine lines of Zoro’s palm, then lightly grazed over the callouses as he took in the sight of a hand that could wield a sword one moment, but then gently stroke Sanji’s cheek the next. A hand that knew how to hurt and how to comfort. 

Eventually Zoro grew bored and he pulled away, rolling over onto his side and holding his arms open expectantly. It wasn’t a request, but a small demand, one that Sanji was all too happy to fulfill on this quiet morning. Sanji lay back down beside Zoro, head tucked nicely underneath his chin, nestling close enough so that their naked chests touched.

Zoro wrapped his arms around Sanji, holding him close and letting his eyes slip back closed. They said nothing, allowing the rain to do the talking. Sanji closed his own eyes and listened to Zoro’s breathing, wondering if he’d already fallen back asleep before Zoro began to stroke his back. Pleased, Sanji hummed and put his arms around Zoro, skin brushing against skin as he lay a leg over Zoro’s.

They lay there together, soft breathing and a tangle of limbs, and Sanji couldn’t think of anyplace else he’d rather be. His thoughts drifted back to the first time they’d rented a room on an island the crew had visited, back when their relationship was still green, when they were still getting used to each other. Sanji had felt uncertain about the silence, so he’d tried fill it. Zoro, still half asleep, had growled at him and told him “Just shut up for a minute, would you?”

But now Sanji did not feel the need to say anything at all. He smiled against the warmth of Zoro’s skin and gently nuzzled him as Zoro continued to stroke his back.

Though he did have at least one thing to tell Zoro: “I could stay like this forever.”

“Sounds good to me, Curly.”

“But we’re gonna have to get up eventually…”

“Not until the rain stops. Makes me wanna stay in bed.”

Sanji chuckled softly. “Deal.”


	10. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoro surprises Sanji

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came from a prompt on Tumblr. I'm happy to update this collection and hope you all enjoy it.

With the last of the groceries from the final supply run put up, Sanji let out a long, tired sigh. He slumped against the kitchen cabinets, loosening his tie as he considered the prospect of fixing himself a quick meal, taking a bath, and then heading to bed early. It was one of those rare days where Sanji could afford to turn in early, what with the rest of the crew enjoying their time on the island where the ship had docked, freeing Sanji of his cooking duties.

His thoughts turned to Zoro and he sighed again, rubbing at his weary eyes with the heels of his hands. He would have liked to spend the evening with the swordsman, but Zoro had been elusive today, seemingly lost in thought as soon as Luffy had spotted land. Sanji had seen him chatting with Nami, then Robin, and then Usopp before the _Thousand Sunny_ docked, but he hadn’t done much talking to Sanji when asked about his plans for the day, grunting something about being busy before disembarking. He hadn’t seen Zoro since, only hearing from Usopp when Sanji returned from his last trip into town that Zoro said he would watch the ship in Usopp’s stead.

Sanji, his arms full, had looked up at the crow’s nest, his lips clamped tight around his cigarette, and he frowned. “Asshole,” he’d muttered before heading for the kitchen, wondering why Zoro had been so evasive, thinking nothing about the way Usopp had looked at Sanji and smiled knowingly before he’d left, eager to find Luffy or Nami.

One plate later, Sanji took his meal with him as he pushed the kitchen door open. He sat down on one of the adjacent staircases with his meal, leaning back against the stairs and staring up at the sky. Chewing on his food slowly, Sanji took in the oranges and yellows of the sky and the swirl of clouds above the ship, the colors reminding him of sorbet. He was busy contemplating making sorbet for dessert later on in the week when he sensed Zoro approaching him.

“Oh,” Sanji said, looking at Zoro. “Look who decided to come out and be social.”

Zoro sent Sanji a dirty look. “Come upstairs with me, Cook.”

“‘Hi, Sanji,’” Sanji said, speaking for Zoro, his words taking on a bitter edge. “‘How are you, Sanji? How was your day? Sorry for blowing you off earlier.’”

“I didn’t blow you off,” Zoro said.

“Then what do you call this morning?” Sanji said, brows shooting up.

“I said I was busy.”

“Oh, yes. Busy doing marimo things, I’m sure,” Sanji said, nodding calmly like they were having a reasonable, levelheaded discussion. “I bet you had a busy schedule of drinking at the closest tavern. Or loitering.”

“You’re impossible. If you’d just–”

“And you’re an insensitive asshole!” Sanji spat.

Zoro stared at Sanji for a few moments before he released the tension in his shoulders. He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “This is the exact _opposite_ of how I wanted tonight to go,” he said, sounding like he was talking more to himself than Sanji. 

Sanji snorted and angrily stabbed at his food. 

“I’m sorry, Cook,” Zoro said, his voice much calmer now. Sanji looked up into Zoro’s eye. “Would you just come up to the crow’s nest with me so I can make it up to you? You can bring your food if you want.”

Sanji blinked, taken aback by Zoro’s apology. He felt himself soften, the resentment in his chest uncoiling until it disappeared completely. “Okay,” he said softly. He got to his feet, plate in hand, and he followed Zoro up to the crow’s nest. 

He stared at Zoro’s back, wondering when he’d gotten so soft with him. He thought back to the early days of their relationship. Such a petty fight could have lasted for days, with both of them refusing to relent at first because to do so would be to show weakness, only for them to come together later and make up. Looking at Zoro, Sanji realized that both of them must have stopped caring about appearing weak to the other over petty fights. 

“So what’s upstairs?” Sanji asked.

“A surprise,” Zoro said.

Sanji blinked. “A surprise? For me?”

“No, for Brook,” Zoro said sarcastically. He looked at Sanji over his shoulder, a small, affectionate smile softening his features. “Yes, for you.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t act so shocked, Curly.”

“Well, it’s just that’s not usually your style,” Sanji said as they neared the hatch. 

“There’s a first for everything.”

“Hm.”

Zoro came to a quick stop, looking into Sanji’s eyes. “Before we go in, I just wanted to…” He trailed off, staring at the floor. 

“What is it?” Sanji asked. Zoro looked so uncertain, something Sanji rarely got to see. It was kind of cute.

Zoro looked back up into Sanji’s eye. “All right, you know I don’t know shit about romance.”

Sanji laughed both in shock and delight, anticipation growing in him. Zoro may not know anything about romance, but there were days where he could make Sanji melt just by something as simple as telling him that one of his favorite things was waking up next to him in the morning. Zoro wasn’t romantic because he tried, but because he spoke from the heart. “That’s okay,” Sanji said.

“So if I messed this up, I don’t want you chewing me out,” Zoro said. “I tried asking the girls about it–Usopp, too, since he seems to do a pretty good job at making Nami happy–but, you know…”

A grin slowly formed on Sanji’s face as he looked at Zoro. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Sanji said. “Let’s go up there! The suspense is killing me.” Zoro smiled at Sanji before climbing up the ladder and entering the crow’s nest. Sanji followed, balancing the plate while climbing with ease after the dozens if not hundreds of times he’d come up with food for Zoro.

Sanji looked around the inside of the crow’s nest, the room lit by dozens of candles. He set his plate down on the floor and promptly forgot it. 

“Usopp told me candles are romantic,” Zoro said. He nodded at the center of the room, where he had set the futon they kept up here for when they wanted to share a night together. Next to bed sat a bottle of wine that Sanji bent down to pick up and examine. He ran his thumb against the label while Zoro said “Nami says wine and a good meal are the way to go. I couldn’t do anything about the food because I can’t cook and nothing’s as good as your food, but I found a guy selling wine. I hope it’s as fancy as he said it was.”

“What did Robin tell you?” Sanji asked. The wine was as fancy as Zoro hoped, but that didn’t matter to Sanji so much as the fact that Zoro was so concerned with impressing him.

“Some ‘be yourself’ crap that didn’t help at all,” Zoro grumbled.

Sanji chuckled, looking up at Zoro. “She’s right, you know.”

Zoro blinked. “Yeah?”

Sanji nodded. He set the bottle back down and approached Zoro, feeling like he was floating. He wrapped his arms around Zoro in an embrace. “You did all this for me?”

Zoro nodded, returning his embrace. “You’ve seemed stressed lately,” he said. “I thought this might make you feel better.”

Sanji smiled and he kissed Zoro. “It does,” he said when pulled away just enough to speak. He closed his eyes and laid his forehead against Zoro’s. “It was actually pretty sweet of you, Marimo.”

Zoro brought one of his hands to Sanji’s face, rubbing the pad of his thumb against Sanji’s cheek. “Glad you like it, Cook.”

Sanji pulled back, looking at Zoro sternly. “Just don’t be an asshole next time you want to plan a surprise like this,” he said.

Zoro snorted. He laughed as they pulled apart. “You got it,” he said.

“Now,” Sanji said, kicking off his shoes so he could be more comfortable. “Why don’t you open up that bottle and we’ll see if all that money you spent was worth it.”

Zoro chuckled, flopping down onto the bed. He reached up and grabbed Sanji by the wrist, pulling him down into his lap. Sanji smiled and curled up against Zoro, resting his head against Zoro’s shoulder, happy to enjoy the rest of the night with the man he loved.


End file.
